


I Hope You're Happy (I Won't Be)

by Phoenix_Fire_22



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilty Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Infinity War didn't happen here, Injured Peter Parker, Irondad Fic Exchange 2020, Kidnapped Peter Parker, No Beta, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Really Character Death, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, maybe too angsty, or not enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Fire_22/pseuds/Phoenix_Fire_22
Summary: "If Peter wasn't already wrung through the wringer, sliced up and beaten within every inch of himself maybe he could have put together that this was a trap.He wished he had realized it sooner.He wished to all the gods in existence that he had realized it sooner."_Peter should have known his incessant need to save everyone was going to eventually shatter his whole world. Maybe then, he could have done something.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53
Collections: Irondad Fic Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rejectedmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejectedmarvel/gifts).



> Hello all! This is my gift to RejectedMarvel for the Irondad Fic Exchange. I will be posting them in parts, but it will be completed within the week! Apologies in advanced! Everything gets in the way whenever there's a deadline of course x.x
> 
> I'm not sure if I should put the prompt because maybe that would give it away... but maybe it's obvious already.. hmm haha  
> I'm going to preface the fic by saying that I'm not really a writer, so the 'formatting' may be all over the place, but if you can get passed that, I hope you enjoy!

There was something Peter usually found peaceful about sitting up on top of the skyscrapers, staring down at the busy city while his feet dangled off the edge. The loud city with its car horns, and the chatter, and the people just moving and living. Even though, since getting his powers, he would sometimes find himself overwhelmed, the sound of the city just always felt like 'home'.

He could listen to each little detail and it would calm him down. He couldn't ever really make sense of it. Honestly, who likes hearing cars honking continuously. 

Right now, though?

Right now he could barely hear any of it.

He wasn't sure he would be able to hear his own thoughts... if he was even thinking them. 

Instead, his mind was blank. The only thing he could concentrate on was the sound that he could only assume was blood pumping heavily in tune with his chaotic heart rhythm. 

Peter wasn't sure how long he sat there for, but apparently long enough for someone to find him.

"Kid, hey. You with me now?" Clint Barton questioned from beside him. Peter startled slightly. Clint's tone was gentle but he hadn't realized how much he had tuned out until then.

Peter blinked, his red eyes stinging slightly. He wiped at them hastily, nodding.

"How'd you know where I was?" 

"You could give me more credit than that." Clint says lightly.

Peter tries to smile politely in response, but he fails at even that.

He looks back down towards the streets, hoping to find the calm he's so used to. It doesn't work though, everything is back to being loud. Not in the way he usually finds comfort in.

"So, what now?" Peter asks dreadfully.

"For starters, you could get down from the ledge." Peter turns to Clint, noticing the wary look in his eyes. His hand hovering cautiously near Peter's arm.

It certainly wasn't his intention, but he could see how it could look as such. Peter glanced back down to the street below, his mind flashing to May. Even if he had wanted to, he knew far too well what it was like to lose someone close to you. Peter was practically a professional by now. It unfortunately doesn't make it any easier.

" _ Peter _ ." Clint urged.

"Sorry." Peter hops down from the ledge, "That- that's not why I was up here. I wouldn't do that." He says, hopefully reassuringly.

"I know. I know you wouldn't, but I have kids and it's ingrained in me to worry about kids."

"I'm Spiderman." 

"You're still a kid. Plus Tony would-" Peter winces, "Tony would have my head if I let anything happen to you."

"You're probably safe now." Peter says quietly. He wraps his arms around himself not fully convinced it's not just to keep himself from falling apart.

"We're going to find them, Peter. They aren't going to get away with this."

"It won't bring him back. It won't change what I did." His lip quivers and he can feel the tears threatening to appear. Peter turns, trying to compose himself, but Clint grabs his shoulder gently turning him back around.

"Peter, look at me. I need you to look at me." Clint waits until Peter's eyes finally meet his own. The grief in the kids eyes are so palpable it takes Clint aback for a moment- not something the archer is used to. "You didn't do this. What happened was not your fault. No matter how you try to spin it, this isn't on you."

Peter squeezes his eyes closed, but the fresh tears force themselves out regardless. He wants to believe Clint. He wants to, more than anyone could ever know. 

It's just not realistic.

Mr. Stark would have never been in that situation had it not been for Peter. Peter was the one who had gotten himself involved where he shouldn't have. Peter was the one who got kidnapped. Peter was the one they wanted and he was the one they should have kept.

"It should have been me." His breath hitches over the quiet confession. He looks back at Clint, "It should have been me. I'm the one they wanted. Me. Not him. They had me. He should have just- he didn't need to…" He's openly crying now and apparently he can't even get his words out.

"No." Clint has him by both shoulders now, "No one was going to leave you to fend for yourself. No one. Certainly not Tony. Listen to me, parents will do anything for their kids. There's no way, in any universe, Tony and his stubborn fucking head wasn't going to do anything he could to get you back-"

"I'm not his kid." Peter interrupts brokenly.

"Like hell you aren't. Maybe not by blood, fine, I'll give you that. Tony was always such a selfish little shit, but that man looked at you with the same love I look at my own children. There's no mistaking that. There's no way he wasn't going to do whatever he could to get you back. So no, Peter, it is not your fault. It's not his fault. There's only one person to blame and we're going to make sure that he pays."

Peter tries to process the words. He tries to see it from Clint's perspective. He tries to tell himself that he couldn't have done anything differently… but he just can't find a reason to actually believe that. He could have fought to get back. He could have found a way to make them refuse Mr. Stark's offer. He tries, and he tries, but his mind just keeps going back to the same thing over, and over again…

"I just want him back."

And with that, he falls apart.

* * *

Clint barely has time to react before Peter is curling in on himself, breath hitching erratically. Clint wraps both arms around Peter as his knees give out, sending them both to the roof floor. 

Clint has a lot of experience in the field. He prides himself on staying connected and not letting emotions get the better of him.

But he's not in the field, and there's someone falling apart in front of him that has lost way too much already for someone so young. He wraps his arms tighter around Peter who is sobbing into his shoulder. He can tell the kid is fighting to try and compose himself. Fighting and losing.

"It'll be okay." He tries to reassure Peter, but he's not too convinced. "You're okay." He wishes nothing more than to bring Tony back, just to obliterate him himself for putting Peter through this. 

It's as he's readjusting his grip on Peter, that he feels something wet, something horrifyingly warm, on the kid's torso.

Clint wastes no time pulling Peter back to figure out the source of the blood. It doesn't take long to find it, but he's surprised he hadn't seen it earlier. A giant hole rips through the Spiderman suit on Peter's left side, stained with old and fresh blood.

"What is this? When did this happen?" Clint asks urgently.

Peter looks at him confused, fresh tears still slowly leaking out against his control.

Clint holds up his bloody hand in response and Peter's eyes widen slightly.

"Oh."

" _Oh?_ " Clint repeats starting to lose his patience a little. "Peter, what happened?"

"I, uh… I might have gotten shot while I was trying to get away at one point?" Peter says sheepishly.

"Why aren't you healing?" Clint asks incredulously. "Don't you have a healing thing?"

"I do. I don't- I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention to it." Peter's voice trails off and Clint almost feels bad realizing it's probably not bringing back the best memories.

"Okay. Alright, let's go." Clint says as he grabs Peter by the arm, lifting him gently to a stand.

"Go where?" Peter asks hesitantly. 

Clint knows Peter's a smart kid. He knows he would know they would have to go to the compound for any medical issues he has, being enhanced. He can also fathom what Peter might be thinking. Why he might be hesitant to go to the place that caused him and everyone so much grief just hours earlier. 

"Medical is in a completely different wing. We need to get this looked at. If not for anything else, do it for your aunt." Clint knew he was playing dirty with that, but Peter should have healed and he hasn't. He wasn't about to ignore it after everything else that just happened. No one else was dying.

Peter looked like he was getting worse. He wasn't sure if he was actually getting worse or if he was just seeing him differently knowing what he did now, but he wasn't chancing it.

"Come on, let's go." He pulls Peter's arm around his shoulder just in time for the kid to pass out on him.

"For fucks sake, Parker." Clint says to himself as he readjusts his grip on Peter, tapping on his bluetooth equipped ear piece to call his most recent contact.

"Hey, pull the car around. He's passed out. We need to get him to medical." He says as the call connects. "I'll explain when I get down there."

Clint disconnects the call, pausing to put Peter's mask over his head in case they run into someone. Luckily, he manages to get Peter down to the side alley unnoticed. The car already pulled to the door, the backseat open in waiting. 

"Jesus" Happy mumbles as he helps Clint load him into the back of the car. "Maybe I should have gone with you."

Clint shakes his head solemnly, "I don't know about that. He's holding on to a ton of guilt."

"That's bullshit. He's got nothing to feel guilty about." Happy says, then runs a hand down his face as Clint gets in the backseat as well. "He's too much like Tony." Happy finishes sadly, closing the door and heading back to the driver's seat to head to the compound.

  
  


* * *

  
  


_ It was only the second day, but it felt like the second week. _

_ They were relentless. Hooked on torturing Peter as much as they could. Like they were getting some sick high from it that they needed to keep chasing. _

_ He never regretted anything more than using his old suit so Mr. Stark wouldn't try and stop him from getting involved or get mad at him. _

_ Old suit meant no Karen. _

_ Old suit meant no link to help. _

_ He had no idea who these people even were or what they wanted.  _

_ He only knew this… _

_ They weren't anything special. They didn't seem to have any enhancements. _

_ What they did have was a bunch of stolen alien tech and weaponry. The same ones that Vulture and his crew had been messing with a while back. It took a while for Peter to process that, because he was sure SHIELD had taken care of that mess and gotten rid of all the extras. Guess they missed a few… _

_ One of them had messed up. They used it in broad daylight not understanding just how powerful it was. If Karen hadn't detected it, it wasn't hard for Peter to see from where he was scoping out the city anyway. Once he had the location he ran back to the apartment to switch out the suits, not wanting another fiasco like the ferry incident, but Peter was itching for some good Spiderman action and didn't want to be stopped. He'd later realize how stupid he was.  _

_ And if he thought about it enough, maybe he'd realize it wasn't a mistake after all. _

_ Especially not when they kept bringing up Mr. Stark. _

_ He'd hear them whispering to each other through his haze of pain. _

_ 'Where's Stark?' _

_ 'Why isn't he here?' _

_ 'This was supposed to work.' _

_ If Peter wasn't already wrung through the wringer, sliced up and beaten within every inch of himself maybe he could have put together that this was a trap. _

_ He wished he had realized it sooner. _

_ He wished to all the gods in existence that he had realized it sooner. _

  
  


___

  
  


Peter drifted in and out of consciousness consistently. He couldn't even rest while he was unconscious.

He came to a few times in a car. He distinctly remembers Happy telling him to hold on. 

Then whispering to himself, "Please, don't take another one." Peter willed himself to drift back into darkness after that, cursing his enhanced hearing. Figured, that he'd be half dead and still able to hear what would crush his soul even more than before.

He welcomed the void after that. Though unfortunately it didn't last long.

Something was happening.

Someone was pulling him from the car.

"It's okay. You're okay. We're at the compound. Barton's got you. I'll be right back. Hang on." Happy's foggy voice filtered through his panic.

He heard Clint grunt as he was being lifted and tried to stop him. He could walk on his own.

"I don't want to hear it. You're bleeding everywhere." Clint ordered. "Now, what the hell have you been eating?"

"Blame th' sp'ders" Peter managed to mumble out.

"Yeah, I'll send a message through the bug guy."

"I'm a bug guy." Peter moaned out as he got jostled against Clint.

"Bug kid." Clint corrected.

He succumbs to, once more after that.

But not before his enhanced hearing could pick up all the commotion throughout the compound.

' _Of course there'd be commotion_ ,' Peter thought to himself bitterly, ' _The guy that signs their paychecks was just murdered_.' 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Peter eventually lost track of time. He was passing out too frequently to keep track of what was going on.  _

_ He'd wake up and they wouldn't waste a moment. _

_ He wanted to fight back but they had done too much damage at once. He was healing, sure, but it wasn't quick enough. It wasn't effective enough. _

_ He had tried to fight back in the beginning, but they shot him for the attempt and put him in cuffs that he couldn't seem to break out of.  _

_ The bullet didn't seem to hit anything too vital though, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. He couldn't get the bullet out with his arms restrained, and it didn't seem his captors were too concerned with keeping him alive as much as making him wish he wasn't. Peter held on, though. This wasn't going to be what did him in. So he fought as much as he could until... he just couldn't. _

_ He was exhausted. _

_ He wanted to go home. _

_ He cried in guilt and shame because he could feel himself giving up and he didn't even think he had even been there for that long.  _

_ It felt like it, though. _

_ He didn't want to let May down. He didn't want to let Mr. Stark down. Not Ned, or the Avengers, or even Happy. However, here he was... giving in to the pain and suffering. _

_ He'd cried himself to sleep that night, hoping, with what little dignity he had, that his captors couldn't hear him. _

* * *

  
  


Peter wakes up with a start.

He’s in a bed that isn’t his, with walls he doesn’t recognize, lit by lights that were far too bright.

His usual senses that alerted him to danger weren't present, but the rest of him didn't seem to care. He could feel himself starting to panic, his breath hitching while wild eyes flit rapidly through the room in search for any kind of danger.

He goes to sit up, but finds he can't move his wrists. 

Peter freezes, staring down in horror as all his breath rushes out of him. 

Leather straps wrap around each of his wrists, attaching to small metal frames on either side of the bed.

The more he stares, the more his lungs start to constrict. 

He isn’t there anymore.

He couldn't be.

This wasn't happening.

When he can feel himself starting to pass out, he remembers to breathe. It is slow and measured, but he’s willing himself not to freak out. He’s probably failing. 

He musters up every ounce of hope he can, and slowly flexes his hand, yanking his wrist up quickly.

With a small  _ pop _ and a tear, his right wrist comes free, quickly moving to release the left.

Mindlessly, he gets out of the bed and sinks down into the corner. Bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, he drops his head. He could go out the window. He could try the door. He could try a lot of things. For some reason though, he just doesn’t want to try anything. He just wanted to sit here and pretend things were back to normal.

He wants things to  _ be _ back to normal.

The sound of the door opening startles Peter, his entire body tensing in anticipated fear as he hears footsteps entering the room.

"Oh, what the hell." 

Then a whisper in response, "I told them those were a bad idea." A second set of footsteps approaches. The familiar voice fills the room and Peter feels almost like he can breathe again. 

Shakily, Peter pulls himself up, hand braced on the wall beside him as May comes into view.

"Oh, honey." Her voice breaks as she approaches him, wasting no time pulling him into a hug. He stills for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around her in return.

Peter's not sure how long it's been since he has seen her. He thinks they told him it was only a few days, but he's not really sure of anything anymore.

They had called May in when he returned to the compound the second time, while he was in and out of consciousness. One of the few things he remembers hearing in his daze.  _ 'We called your aunt. She's on the way.' _

May loosened her grip on Peter. He'd like to be able to say he felt the warmth leave as she pulled away. Or that he even felt any when she hugged him to begin with. Unfortunately, he just couldn't feel much of anything.

He let her lead him back to the bed, gently pushing him down onto the edge. He eyes the remains of the straps cautiously.

"We didn't expect you to be awake so soon." Happy says as he fully enteres the room, having stood back to give Peter and May a moment. Happy gestures to the straps, "You woke up earlier. It, uh, it didn't go well. The doctors didn't- and we didn't, want you to hurt yourself. We weren't gone long- your aunt and I. We didn't think you'd wake up in the meantime." Happy explains almost sheepishly. It tore a burning hole right through Peter's chest. Happy should be livid. Not cautious. Not… caring? Peter got his best friend killed.

Peter slams his eyes shut, willing himself to stop thinking about it, but it only makes it worse. As soon as his eyes closed, it was happening all over again. 

The gunshot echoing through the speakers.

The blood splattering.

His world shattering.

He feels someone touching his hands and his eyes shoot open, jerking backwards until he realizes that it’s May. She brings her hands up cautiously to show that she wasn't trying to hurt him. But he knew she wouldn't. He knew she was safe. He was just startled. On edge. Broken.

Destroyed.

"Sweetie, your hands." She gestures towards them. He looks down. His nails had been digging into his hands, small drops of blood flowing through the lines of his palms.

"Sorry" Peter mutters, shoving his hands into his lap, trying to hide them, though it was too late regardless.

"You don't have to be sorry, Pete. It's okay." Happy offers comfortingly, trying to be helpful.

But Peter didn't need help. He didn't deserve  _ help _ . Happy should hate him. Why wasn't he turning him over to Ross right now? Why was he just sitting in a building owned by Tony Stark. With people who worked for Tony Stark. Ran by Tony Stark's wife- his widow. 

Mr. Stark was dead. He was dead and Happy was here trying to make sure he was okay.

The guilt was tearing into Peter like a tornado of knives. It was encasing every inch of him and wrapping its treacherous hands right around his heart. Squeezing and suffocating. So he tried to bottle it up. It took everything he could to keep it all in, but it had only been hours, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could handle it.

It didn't matter though. This was his fault, and now others were suffering for his actions.

_ I did this. I did this. I did this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. _

"I'm sorry." Peter mutters once more.

"It's- Peter it's okay." May reassures, but that's not it. They're not getting it.

"I'm so sorry." Peter gasps out, turning to finally meet Happy's eyes, trying to hold back all the emotions that should have come pouring out with it.

He must have failed at that too, because Happy is looking at him with something akin to horror. "Don't. Don't do that to yourself." Happy shakes his head sadly, and Peter knows why. 

There were many times, more than Peter could recall, of Happy sighing in exasperation.

_ 'Are you sure he's not yours?'  _ Happy would ask Mr. Stark. 

_ 'It's creepy.' _

_ 'I swear to God…'  _ He would roll his eyes,  _ 'It's like you cloned yourself.' _

Peter took pride in it, every time, to be compared to his idol by someone who knew Tony Stark so well. He always secretly looked forward to the comparisons Happy would make, to see how he related to his hero. Now it just stung, because now it was a reminder of what he lost. A reminder of yet another thing ruined by his own monumental mistakes.

"I shouldn't be here." He turns to May, anxiously fiddling his hands in his lap.

"Honey, you're still healing. Of course you should be here." May says, returning the same quiet time, just more gently.

"No, I- I shouldn't be  _ here _ ." He glances around the room with his eyes, tensing slightly as they land on Happy. "I'm not- I…" How does be explain that he doesn't deserve to be in a building owned by Tony Stark, around people who knew and loved Tony Stark, without drilling in the fact that he's the reason he's gone?

Happy sensing the tension, excuses himself, "I'm just gonna go check on Pe- on some things. You can call me if you need me." He offers as he leaves the room.

"Pepper." Peter whispers quietly after a few minutes of just silence.

"I'm sorry?" May asks as she scoots closer next to Peter, taking his hands in hers comfortingly. Exactly what he didn't deserve. Comfort.

"Pepper. He's going to check on Pepper because I- … because I got her husband killed." Peter replies dreadfully, his eyes suddenly stinging so bad he has to squeeze them shut to abate it.

" _ What? _ Peter, honey, no.  _ No _ . You had nothing to do with that. You were a victim just as much as him." May says, shocked that he could even think that.

"May, it was a trap." He says quietly, willing his voice not to break. Not to open the floodgates he could feel trying to force its way through. "They wanted him, so they took me. They set me up just to get him and it worked. He came for me. I'm the reason he's de- dead. I'm… it's on me." He wipes, hastily, at the tears escaping from his burning eyes.

"Peter. You can't do this to yourself. Don't put that kind of guilt on yourself. You are not responsible for what happened to Tony." But how could he not when his aunt was sitting here now crying because of him too.

They sit there in silence for what is only a few minutes, but what feels like hours to Peter from everything that runs through his mind. What he could have done differently, in every aspect.

But did it matter? He was a walking curse. He had to be.

"It's not the first. It won't be the last." He says in sorrow. May looks back at him confused but ready to be there for him no matter what he says and he doesn’t deserve that. A sob escapes him as the dam starts to crack. His breath hitches as the cracks grow into giant huge gaping holes.

"I got him killed, May. I put him in that situation and he paid the price for it." He puts his head in his hands as he tries to hold on to whatever he could to ground himself. "He's dead. And it's my fault… again. People keep dying because of me. You lost your husband because of me. Pepper lost her husband because of me. I'm not a hero, May, I never have been. I'm a plague. I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me too." He was openingly sobbing now.

"Oh, oh God. Peter, oh God. No, no please don't think that." She wraps her arms around him like she's trying to hold him together as he falls apart. "No one blames you. It's not your fault. Please believe me."

The dam breaks

Peter drowns.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


_ He woke up abruptly. _

_ He woke up tense and on alert. _

_ He woke up and had no idea why. _

_ That is until… _

_ "Jesus Christ." _

_ Peter startled, even though the voice wasn't harsh or loud through the now open doorway. The steel door laid out on the ground, dust still rushing through the light of Iron Man's reactors. _

_ Peter let out a sob. _

_ He would dream of this moment, sometimes hallucinate it while he was being tortured, but this time he just knew it was real. This wasn't his imagination. Mr. Stark was here. _

_ "Didn't I tell you to throw that old thing away? When we get out of here you're grounded and I'm implanting Karen into your brain." Mr. Stark said jokingly but the concern was evident when he opened the mask to reveal his face and Peter saw every ounce of worry seeping through the man's expression. "What the hell did they do to you?"  _

_ "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought I could stop them." Peter cried out as much as he could, his voice far too hoarse for anything louder. _

_ "What do we have here?" Mr. Stark asked, more to himself, after he noticed Peter's arms bound, even though Peter still tried reaching out for him. _

_ "I don't- I don't know. I couldn't break it. I tried." Peter said, as Mr. Stark lowered the face mask, using the suit to scan the material. _

_ "Well, no wonder. It's vibranium. Don't worry though, I made a tool for this so Rogers couldn't ever get the best of me with that pretentious shield of his." A small tool ejected from one of the fingers of the suit, and Mr. Stark used it to break through the vibranium. _

_ As soon as both his hands were free, Peter jumped up from the chair, wanting to be as far away from it as possible. He got up so fast, he stumbled. Mr. Stark grabbed onto his arm to keep him from falling, turning him around to look at him. _

_ Peter watched the concern morph into anger as he glanced over all the scrapes and bruises Peter assumed were adorning his face, and arms, and well… everywhere else. He looked downright furious when he caught sight of the bullet wound in his torso. _

_ "What the fuck." Mr. Stark exclaimed with rage, but Peter was just relieved. _

_ He threw his arms around Mr. Stark, not caring how awkward it felt to be hugging the man through a suit. It was the first time he ever hugged the man to begin with so he would take what he could get. Not long after, Mr. Stark returned the embrace. Peter winced slightly as one of the pieces of the armor dug into his injured torso and regretted it as Mr. Stark pulled away.  _

_ Peter felt bad, just remembering now that the man wasn't big into hugs. Peter was about to apologize for getting his feelings all over him, when the Iron Man suit, with the exception of the gauntlets, retracted. "Stop looking at me like that." Mr. Stark said as he pulled Peter back into the hug. "You're grounded." _

_ "You can't ground me." Peter replied in joking defiance. _

_ "Like hell I can't. You think your aunt won't side with me on this? You're delusional, kid." He pulled back slowly, looking more serious now, "Come on, we've got to get you out of here. Stay behind me." He told Peter as he activated the rest of the nano suit, "Friday, tell Rhodey I've got him." Mr. Stark told the AI as Peter followed him closely as he exited the room into a hallway. _

_ As soon as Peter stepped through the doorway, a man came around the corner with a gun. Mr. Stark wasted no time blasting him with his repulsor.  _

_ "Good thing he was expendable." Peter froze as an arm wrapped around his neck, cold metal pressed against his head as Mr. Stark's whipped around, his hand raised and out, repulsor ready. _

_ "Ah, ah" the man chided, using Peter as a shield, while more people approached from either side of them pointing their weapons at Mr. Stark. Peter stilled even more. _

_ "Let him go. You already have me, I'll do whatever you want. Please, let him go." Peter pleaded and he knew it's not what you're supposed to do but Mr. Stark had guns pointed at him, so any logical composure he could have was out the window. _

_ "Kid, shut up." Tony said sternly, his words tense. _

_ "Yeah, kid, do shut up." The guy with the gun to his head said condescendingly and Peter wanted to deck him, but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to Mr. Stark. "Besides," he continued, "You're not the one we want anyway."  _

_ Peter paused in confusion, watching Mr. Stark went rigid, the color draining from his face. _

_ "This was a setup?" Mr. Stark said, his eyes widened before hardening in disbelief. _

_ "Busted." Gun-guy sang cheerfully, but Peter was still not connecting the dots. He found them. He's the one that tried to take them out. He's the one they've been torturing for days. It's him they wanted. It's the only thing he can make sense of.  _

_ "What do you want?" Mr. Stark asked stonily, his arms still raised in defense but his eyes still locked onto Peter, and Peter could see the worry in his eyes. _

_ "Me. You wanted me. You-" Peter tried convincing himself more than anything, stopping when the barrel of the gun pushed more into his temple. Mr. Stark noticed and took a step forward, stopping when half of the men surrounding them turned their guns towards Peter.  _

_ "It all worked out beautifully. We really have Spiderman here to thank. Honestly, we couldn't have executed it so perfectly without him. He led you right to us. I mean, it took a bit longer than expected so there were some repercussions on his end, but, mission accomplished!" He patted Peter on the shoulder in mock appreciation and Peter flinched as he continued, "If you couldn't tell, Stark, it's you we've been after. Just had to lay a few breadcrumbs to get us here." _

_ This wasn't right. Maybe Peter was slow to figure it out, or maybe it was because he was battered and shot and exhausted, that he wasn't thinking correctly. Maybe though, he just didn't want to believe it. This couldn't be. He thought he was doing something good. He thought he was trying to take down some bad people like usual. If he had known this was a trap… _

_ If he had any idea he was going to be putting Mr. Stark in harm's way like this… _

_ He felt like throwing up. He couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening.  _

_ No, this was Iron Man. This wasn't going to deter him. He was a superhero. This was Tony Stark. He'd get them out of this. Mr. Stark would be safe. _

_ "Alright." Mr. Stark's demeanor changed. Any emotion was shielded, and the Tony Stark he represented to the media was present. Peter wasn't sure if it was obvious to anyone else, but he knew him well enough. _

_ He knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to like this. _

_ "Alright, fine." Mr. Stark continued, "You have me. As long as you let him go. As long as you and your goon squad don't lay another hand on him and you let him leave here and you don't go after him or ever look at him again, I'll do whatever you want." _

_ "No! Mr. Stark-!"  _

_ "Deal." _

_ "No! No, you can't!" Peter cried out. This wasn't happening. He couldn't breathe. He looked to Mr. Stark for a sign that this itself was a trap of his own, but Mr. Stark wouldn't look at him now, only staring at Gun-Guy, like he was actively trying to avoid Peter's gaze. _

_ "You're free, Spidey. Take the chance." Gun-Guy said as he released his hold on him. Peter took the chance alright. He whipped around, punching the guy in the face before sweeping his leg and sending the guy to the floor. Before he knew it, he himself was on the ground. He could see Mr. Stark out of the corner of his eye, struggling as he was being held back. _

_ The guy he wiped out was standing up now. "Fucking pest" he said as he spit blood on the floor, rearing his leg back and kicking Peter right in the gunshot wound. He could hear yelling but the ringing in his ears was so loud he couldn't make out what it was. He curled in on himself in pain. _

_ "You son of a bitch! I told you not to fucking touch him!"  _

_ "Cooperation is required on all ends, Stark. Tell the fucking kid to reel it back before we kill the both of you." _

_ As Peter's head started to clear, he went to turn to strike once more but Mr. Stark interrupted him, "Don't." Peter stopped his movements, but only in fear that the next time it would be Mr. Stark they went after. Though, that's what they were trying to do anyway. Peter felt helpless. He had to do something, but he didn't want to screw things up more than he already had. _

_ After a moment, it seemed that everyone backed off slightly. Peter took the moment to stand up, slowly and painfully. He spared a glance at Mr. Stark who was looking at him again, but with warning in his eyes. Peter listened to it. At some point, probably during the commotion Peter just caused, Mr. Stark had retracted his gauntlets, now completely suitless and it was putting Peter even more on edge. Without realizing it he started to move towards Mr. Stark, trying to get between him and everyone else. They let him do so, but all eyes were on him, in case he tried anything again. _

_ Once he got close enough, Mr. Stark gripped his bicep gently pulling him closer as he said to the rest of them, "You're going to let him go." A statement, not a question. He must have gotten a nonverbal confirmation that Peter wasn't able to see because he was being turned, Mr. Stark gripping both of his shoulders as he looked at Peter with a sadness he hadn't seen before. "Pete-" _

_ "No," Peter interrupted him, "No. No, I'm not leaving you. I'm not- You can't." His voice hitching in fear and desperation. _

_ With movement faster than Peter could process, Mr. Stark was ripping something off his chest and shoving it onto his own. Peter stared down in confusion at the housing unit for the Iron Man nanotech. _

_ It clicked a moment too late. Peter turned wide eyes in horror at Mr. Stark who looked distraught, smiling at him sadly. _

_ "Friday, activate-" _

_ "No." Peter sobbed, moving to rip the unit off of him as the nanotech started to spread and cover Peter's body in the armour meant for Mr. Stark. _

_ "-Take him home." _

_ "No! No, please! Don't-!" _

_ It was too late.  _

_ The very thing he had always been so fascinated by was now a prison. _

_ Peter tried reaching out for Mr. Stark, but the older man was pulled back just as the nano-prison was fully encased over him. The repulsors wasted no time in firing up and sending him out the same way Mr. Stark must have come in. _

_ Peter screamed. He tried yelling orders over his desperate wails, anything to get Friday to turn around. To go back for Mr. Stark but she wouldn't comply. _

_ He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe between the sobs, and the panic. He couldn't breathe from the vice grip around his lungs and his heart as he hurtled through the sky. _

_ Before he knew it, he was headed straight for the compound, right into the giant electric doors that only activated for the Avengers. He hated how gracefully the suit was landing while he was falling apart inside of it. _

_ "Hey, where's the kid?" Rhodey approached as the suit started to disengage gasping in surprise as it started to reveal the Spiderman suit Peter had been wearing, until eventually it was all back in its unit. " _ Pete _?" Rhodey questioned, confused. _

_ Peter ripped off the offending object, finally allowing him to, and threw it across the floor as his knees hit the hard floor. _

_ "Pete, where's Tony?" Rhodey asked cautiously over the sound of footsteps running into the room. Peter stood up quickly, rushing towards the computers on the far wall that accessed the Avengers' equipment. There was a Spiderman suit in there somewhere. Peter just had to find it and if he could find it, he could go back for Mr. Stark. He grabbed frantically at the keyboard, pulling it forward and trying to figure out how to access the suit. He hadn't ever used it before but he needed to now. _

_ He was forcefully moved from the computer, turning around and bracing himself for something worse when he noticed it was just Rhodey. Peter's frantic eyes scanned over the others in the room, not having even heard the entry of Sam, Clint, and Nat.  _

_ "They have him." Peter rushed out, the questioning eyes staring back at him kick-started the urgency to get back to Mr. Stark, "They have him. It was a- it was a trap. He doesn't have his suit. We need to go back. We've got to get him out of there. They wanted him the whole time. He doesn't have the suit." He rushed out in panic. _

_ "Woah, slow down. What do you mean it was a trap?" Sam asked as he approached Peter, hesitating briefly as he took notice of the condition he was in. "What the hell did they do to you?" _

_ "That doesn't matter! We have to go back!" Peter exploded. _

_ "Okay, okay." Rhodey placated, "We're going to get him back. But you're in no condition to do so. We're gonna get you to medical. We'll bring him back, Peter." _

_ "No, no. This is my fault. I have to fix this. I have to-" _

_ 'Incoming message. Marked urgent." Friday's voice interrupted, filling the room with a sense of dread. _

_ "Accept." Rhodey replied to the AI. _

_ The array of monitors adjoined with the computer system all flickered on. Peter jerked back at the sight, right into Rhodey, as his eyes ran rapidly over the screens, widening in horror. _

_ Mr. Stark was strapped to the same chair he had just been restrained to not that long ago. A man he had never seen before stood next to him grinning maniacally into the camera. A glint caught Peter's eye as he honed in on the gun in the man's hand.  _

_ "What do you want?" Rhodey questioned darkly.  _

_ "Oh, just wanted to say hello!" The man replied. _

_ "We have to go. We have to go." Peter whispered desperately, moving to go back to trying to acquire a workable Spiderman suit. _

_ "That won't be necessary, Mr. Parker." The other stilted at the use of his last name but he wasn't surprised. While he didn't know who this man was, everyone else had seen his face. They could have easily looked it up. "We're just here to say our goodbyes." He said as he waved the gun tauntingly. _

_ Peter froze. _

_ They said they wanted Mr. Stark. He'd assumed they needed him for something. He didn't think they would- _

_ He thought they'd need him. He'd have to be alive for that. They wouldn't- _

_ Peter zoned out on the conversation, too busy tracking the guys movements, willing everything in the universe that that gun would not be used. That they were going to find a way to get Mr. Stark back. _

_ "This is all my fault." Peter said to himself more than anything but it must have picked up on the mic, as he saw Mr. Stark's head whip towards the camera, distracting him from his eagle-eyed view on the gun, but now he couldn't look away. _

_ "You didn't do anything wrong, kid." Mr. Stark's voice filtered through the speakers tearing right through Peter's heart. "This isn't on yo-" The video glitched for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to startle Peter. For a moment, he thought he was there with him. He knew every inch of that room so it wasn't hard to put himself in there again.  _

_ "Well this has been sweet and all…" The guy said, interrupting what Mr. Stark was saying. _

_ Something was wrong. Peter could feel it down to his bones, but there wasn't enough time to act on anything. Not that he could, since he was no longer there. _

_ Before Peter could even blink, the gun was brought up to Mr. Stark's head. Peter stopped breathing. _

_ "No!" Rhodey shouted from behind him, but there was no use. Halfway between the one syllable word, the gun was fired. Peter watched the spray of blood. He watched Mr. Stark's chin drop to his chest, lifelessly.  _

_ He watched his world end. _

_ He watched his universe break. _


End file.
